Kim Possible: Sanktamonapalooza
by TheGrebe
Summary: Drakken's down for the count, and Shego's left in charge. Through a combination of nerve chemicals and emo kids, can she take over the world? Meanwhile, a snide editorial portrays Kim as a less than ideal role model. Can Kim recover her image?


_Disclaimer: These characters belong to Disney. I reap naught from their usage. However, I do own the word "over." Every time you use it, I get a nickel._

Shego was around fifteen when she started considering villainy. Her life was structured to the point of fragmentation. Her older brother Steve, the self-appointed head of the household, made sure that the family's every action was bathed in the glow of piety. She needed to seek approval for every action she ever did. Villainy was the opposite. Villainy represented total freedom.

Of course, Shego never considered that freedom consisted of staring at a thermometer for an hour straight.

"Hey, Doctor D? Can't you put an alarm on it or something?" she asked her boss, as the numbers crawled up at an excruciatingly slow rate.

Her boss, Dr. Drakken, looked up from his well plate. "Patience, Shego," he replied. "If the temperature rises past the critical point, the chemicals will decompose. An alarm is no substitute for finely-tuned observation."

"Is that what they teach you in nerd school?" Shego sighed. The temperature paused, then increased one-hundredth of a degree. Her leg fell asleep.

"Oh, hush," Drakken clucked. "Earn your paycheck." He slid the well plate into an incubator and picked up a micropipette. "This is the last batch, Shego. We're almost ready for Phase B." He laughed, though the sound was muffled by his biohazard gear.

"Phase B. Woo." Under her own hood, Shego felt her dark, wavy hair growing heavy with sweat, weighing down her head like a dead skunk. The temperature hovered just below the critical point.

"And…now!" Deftly, Drakken grabbed the chemicals from the oven and injected the contents of the micropipette. "I'll put this away. You're excused."

"Hallelujah," Shego muttered. She left the lab and begin shucking her biohazard gear. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a henchman hovering in the corridor. Big blonde guy. She didn't recognize him.

"Don't waste your time watching me, pumpkin," she said. "I'm wearing my catsuit underneath all this shit." She tossed her hood aside and raised an eyebrow.

The henchman turned red. "I'm not…um, a pervert. I just wanted to see how the chemicals are doing." He had a strong Southern accent.

"The chemicals? I'm not the one to ask. Dr. D's in the lab. He can tell you all about his little pet project." Gathering up the gear and tossing it into a waiting bin, she turned to leave. "I, on the other hand, could care less."

The lab door opened and closed. Drakken appeared and began removing his own lab gear. He had a red plastic box with him.

"Speak of the devil," said Shego. "Hey Doc, Henchie here wants to know all about your chemicals. I'm gone." She walked briskly away.

When she was out of earshot, the doctor grinned wryly. "Never had a henchman care about my work before. Are you interested more in the lab or…" He jerked his head in the direction Shego left. "…in the lab personnel?"

As the henchman's panicked brain tried to form a coherent response, Drakken turned and left as well. "Henchmen," he snorted.

After a nice cool shower, Shego decided to venture to the mess hall. As she walked down the stairs, the same henchman appeared behind her.

"Hi," said the henchman.

"Huh," replied Shego. She continued down the stairs. "So, how long have you been waiting for me to come out of the shower?"

The henchman couldn't think of a decent lie, so he decided play Mr. Evasive. "Nothing better to do."

Shego rolled her green eyes to the ceiling. "Jesus."

The henchman picked up his pace. Now he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Shego. "Name's Rev."

"Whatever." They entered the mess hall. The henchmen were sitting at a large cafeteria table, drinking iced tea. Drakken, meanwhile, was sitting off in the corner, nursing a glass and poring over a newspaper.

A pug-nosed henchman held up a pitcher. "Iced tea? Made it myself."

"Sweet or unsweet?" asked Rev.

"Unsweet," said a tall Hispanic henchman, drinking his glass.

Rev wrinkled his nose. "Why even bother making unsweet tea? Idiot Yankees." He wandered off to the kitchen.

Shego poured herself a glass of tea and decided to join Drakken. She'd had quite enough of henchmen for the day. She slid into the chair next to him. "Can I have the Sudoku?" she asked.

"Finished it already," Drakken replied. He picked up a section of newspaper and slid it toward her. "But I left you the Jumble."

"Damn." She was about to take a sip of tea when Drakken grabbed her wrist. "Hold on a minute, Shego. Something's going on." She followed his gaze to the henchmen's table.

"Why are you saying it's unsweet tea?" said Pug-Nose.

"I'm saying it's unsweet 'cause it _is _unsweet!" shouted Tall Hispanic. "I had to put in three packets of sugar just so it wouldn't taste like shit!"

Another henchman dropped his glass, which immediately shattered. Surrounding henchmen fled. "Sorry," the henchman said sheepishly. "My hand was shaking."

"You're crazy, man! I put in a whole box of sugar when I made it!" Pug-Nose shot back at Tall Hispanic. Rev peered out of the kitchen, holding a can of Mello Yello.

Drakken paled, an interesting effect combined with his slate-colored skin. He grabbed the glass out of Shego's hand and made his way to the henchmen. Grabbing the front of Pug-Nose's Spandex jumpsuit, he said through clenched teeth, "What box did you get the sugar out of?"

Pug-Nose looked confused. "Red one? I dunno."

Drakken released his captive. Fury and panic rose in his dark eyes. "You goddamn buffoon. That was my lab work!" He began pacing, a nervous habit. "Last batch. I stored it in the kitchen fridge. The fridge in the lab was full!" He stopped pacing and whirled to face Pug-Nose. "Did you not see the biohazard symbol?!"

Pug-Nose looked queasy. "I thought it was some kinda flower logo!"

Drakken sunk into a chair and looked up. "Chemical name: Corin-V. Causes tremors, disorientation, blurred vision…let's see, headaches, fine motor problems. No antidote. Oh, and it lasts a week." He leaned forward. "So I hope you're proud of yourself!"

Shego winced.

The henchmen began to mutter ominously, staring at Pug-Nose. Just as Pug-Nose was about to break into a run, the henchman who had dropped the glass collapsed onto the floor in a seizure. The other henchmen screamed. Another one hit the ground. Pug-Nose turned to flee, then fell as well.

Drakken turned to leave. He stumbled, and Shego caught him by the elbow. "Will you be all right?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I won't die. Though I'll probably want to." They walked up the stairs and stopped at the door to Drakken's bedroom. His eyes widened.

"Shego! I've got a pound…of Corin-V in the lab! It'll…g-go…bad!" He struggled to form the words.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" She released his elbow.

"Use it…ah course." He leaned against the doorjamb.

"Whoa, time out." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Not my job. You come up with the plans. I save your ass. This is unfair."

"Earn your pay…check," Drakken stammered, right before he hit the floor.


End file.
